Run Away
by elbcw
Summary: 'Aramis took stock of his situation. He was injured, unable to walk, at least not without causing himself a lot of pain and he was alone in the woods. His friends would not have abandoned him, so they must have been taken during the night. Why had he been left behind' Sometimes running away is the only option.
1. Chapter 1

Authors note: Inspired be a 10km trail run I did a few weeks ago. I hate trail running.

Run Away

Chapter One.

Aramis woke with a start. He winced as he inadvertently moved his leg. His sprained knee letting itself be known. It was dawn. They were supposed to have broken camp and been gone before first light.

Why had the others not woken him up?

He looked about him and the question was answered by the total lack of any sign of his friends. The camp was deserted. There was no sign of Athos, Porthos or d'Artagnan. The horses were gone, and their gear had disappeared as well. He glanced to his side and realised that he was also missing his boots having taken them off the night before when he dealt with his injury.

Only he was there. Alone.

He shifted slightly to look around, the fire was smouldering having burnt itself out with no one to continue to feed it dry wood.

Aramis took stock of his situation. He was injured, unable to walk, at least not without causing himself a lot of pain and he was alone in the woods. His friends would not have abandoned him, so they must have been taken during the night. Why had he been left behind?

Because of his injury. It struck Aramis as odd that whoever had taken his friends and not deemed him worthy of the same attention had left him alive. Surely it would have made more sense to kill him than leave him behind, even injured. Whoever had taken the others had not searched him as he still had his guns and sword which were tucked under his blanket. Only his boots were missing.

Realising that staying where he was would not help anyone, he attempted to stand. The pain in his knee radiated out through his leg, it was excruciating. Even the effort of pulling himself into a sitting position was not easy. He bent his good right leg and prepared to haul himself up. He cried out in pain as he did so, breathing heavily and sweating with the struggle.

He managed it, standing with most of his weight on his right left he looked about. He did not want to take a step unless it was in the right direction. He knew the pain would be overbearing so he did not want to waste energy walking, or most likely stumbling in the wrong direction.

The ground was churned up in a few places. He had been asleep before the other the previous night so he did not know who had slept where. He suspected Porthos would have chosen to sleep next to him as he had gone into a full protective brother mode after he had been injured. The ground a few feet to the left of his current position showed signs of a struggle, a few footprints were evident. Aramis could pick out the print of the musketeer's boots. He imagined Porthos giving whoever had taken them a hard time.

The direction the reluctant footprints went was echoed by the disturbance on the ground to Aramis' right.

That was the direction he would go in. Although how far he would get, he did not know.

MMMM

The day before…

Porthos thought that the others might have returned at a more sedate pace than they were. A recce on a group of men who had been causing issues in the area should not have resulted in the sight that met his gaze.

Athos, d'Artagnan and Aramis were charging across the open land between the wooded area and the river. Aramis was in the lead wildly gesticulating at Porthos to be ready to destroy their makeshift bridge.

The river, although relatively narrow was fast flowing and deep in this area. They had used an old cart to create a bridge earlier in the day. D'Artagnan had suggested the idea in case they had to make a hasty retreat and prevent anyone following them. Porthos was glad of the idea as he watched his fellow musketeers tearing towards him. He could hear the baying call of hounds coming from the woods. They were clearly running with good reason.

They were within a couple of hundred meters of the river when Aramis stumbled and cried out in pain. Before he had moved another step, Athos had grabbed his left arm and slung it over his shoulder to help his obviously injured friend. Without any direction d'Artagnan grabbed Aramis' other arm and copied Athos' move. Although now slower the three men still moved with pace. Porthos made sure he was ready to push the cart into the river as soon as his fellow musketeers were across.

As they neared Porthos could see Aramis was in obvious pain, he was being forced to continue to use his left leg despite whatever injury he had picked up. He had paled and was gasping for breath. They were all breathing heavily from the run. D'Artagnan let go of Aramis as they reached the cart and Athos bundled Aramis across and without stopping continued forward away from the river and to what they hoped would be the safety of the woods on their side.

As d'Artagnan reached Porthos he turned to help heave the cart into the river, due to its age and the rot that riddled it, the rickety cart broke apart and floated uselessly away. The dogs broke the cover of the opposite woods as both Porthos and d'Artagnan ran for cover. The men that followed fired guns after them, they were too far away by then to be an issue. But the two running musketeers did not want to stay out in the open.

As he pushed his way into the woods Porthos found Athos propping himself up against a tree, shoulders heaving as he gulped in air. Aramis appeared to have remained where Athos must have dropped him. He was lying on his back weakly reaching for his left knee, also panting hard, his face screwed up in pain.

Between gasped breaths d'Artagnan managed to say, 'it was the dogs…they must have known we were there…they were restless and…one of the men came to see…he spotted us.'

Porthos who had not been running for as long as the others had recovered sufficiently to check on Aramis. He knelt next to his friend and felt along his left leg, which was obviously where he was injured. When Aramis gasped in pain as Porthos reached the man's knee he knew he had located the injury.

'Just sprained…' Aramis managed to gasp.

'You sure?'

'Yes, won't be able to bear much weight on it for a couple of days…just need to try to keep the swelling down.'

Porthos nodded, then turned to Athos, 'that was very impressive, back there, you two hardly missed a beat, grabbing him,' he indicated Aramis, 'it's like you can read each other's minds.'

Athos looked across at d'Artagnan who grinned back, 'instinct?' the young man suggested.

'I'm grateful, whatever it was,' said Aramis as he tried to push himself up into a sitting position, only succeeding when Porthos helped him.

Athos had regained control of his breathing and was looking back through the trees. There was no sign of them being followed, which was what they had expected. He turned to the others.

'I think we can afford a few hours before we set off back to Paris. The next bridge is several hours ride away. It will be the early hours of tomorrow before they can reach us,' he looked down at Aramis, 'will you be able to ride by then?'

Aramis nodded.

'Good let's get back to the camp then,' said Porthos as he grabbed Aramis around the shoulders to help him up.

Aramis could not stop the whimper of pain that escaped as he was brought to his feet. Porthos paused for a moment to allow Aramis to again catch his breath only starting forward when his friend nodded. D'Artagnan retook his place on Aramis' right as Athos led the way back to their camp.

MMMM

Porthos lowered Aramis to the ground slowly. It was clear the man was in a lot of pain. He tried to reach down to his boots, realising he was going to need help he looked up at Porthos with pleading eyes.

Porthos chuckled despite the situation, 'how can I resist…' he shrugged his shoulders and knelt beside his friend and pulled off his boots.

Aramis managed a pained smile before sucking in a breath as the action of having his left boot pulled off aggravated his injury. Porthos paused before carrying on, waiting for Aramis to open his eyes again, only taking the boot off completely when Aramis nodded that he was prepared.

Once free of his boots Aramis managed to pull his trouser leg up far enough to reveal the already swollen knee.

'That does look painful,' stated Porthos looking at Aramis who was quite pale. He looked on the verge of passing out. Porthos grabbed his shoulder to help refocus him, 'hey, you stayin' with me or am I going to tend to your injury?'

'I'll do it, just need water and cloths…just need to keep it cool,' Aramis replied.

Porthos was not convinced, but collected what his injured friend needed and sat down beside him ready to help if needed.

MMMM

Athos watched as Porthos helped Aramis deal with his sprained knee. Although not a severe injury it could have proven costly if they had not been as close to escape as they were when Aramis had stumbled.

The dogs chasing them were clearly trained hunters and had been determined in tracking them down. Athos did not want to be around when the men and their hounds reached them. He was sure they would be trying to reach them. The men would have seen their Musketeer uniforms and would want them neutralised.

They had been sent here to investigate a spate of disappearances. For the last fortnight reports had been received in Paris of a group of men terrorising the area with dogs. Some people had disappeared, others reported being chased by the dogs and the men. Treville had dispatched the four to investigate. The plan now was to return to Paris and collect reinforcements to take out the group of men.

He went back to feeding the fire, he knew they would need the warmth, particularly Aramis, as the nights were getting colder. Aramis would tell them he was fine, but Athos knew from experience, that when injured and in pain, the cold seemed to be that much colder.

MMMM

After Porthos had insisted Aramis eat he had helped the injured man to lie down. Aramis had fallen asleep quickly, Porthos staying nearby.

D'Artagnan watched as Porthos fell asleep, he smiled remembering Porthos acting like a protective mother hen around his friend earlier. Athos had taken a spot to the right of Aramis and Porthos. When D'Artagnan finished his watch, he would swap with Athos. He started a slow walk around the perimeter of their camp. They were not expecting any issues but it paid to be vigilant.

As he completed a final circuit of the camp, a couple of hours later, he had a feeling something was off. He looked around again, but could not detect anything. He walked towards Athos to wake him for his turn.

A man stepped forward from a dense area of undergrows, with a gun trained on the sleeping form of Athos. The man made a gesture for d'Artagnan to remain silent and still. D'Artagnan did as he was told.

Two men grabbed him from behind, one pushing a gag into his mouth whilst the other made short work of tying his arms behind him and his weapons carefully removed. His capture had taken less than thirty seconds. The men were good, although d'Artagnan had suspected something was amiss they had still managed to take him by surprise.

Two more men were restraining Porthos who, had initially made to shout but when a gun was pointed at Aramis he had immediately gone quiet and allowed himself to be gagged and restrained. Athos received similar treatment, a shocked expression passing his face as he was hauled into a standing position.

Aramis had remained asleep during the event, d'Artagnan wondered if he was actually unconscious from the pain of his injury, as he could not imagine their friend would not have sensed something was going on around him. They were all light sleepers when they camped.

Looking around d'Artagnan noted that a man was leading their horses away, and another was gathering their gear together. He watched as two of the men had a brief conversation, which appeared to be about Aramis. One of them men was quite animated pointing at Aramis' leg which was propped up over a blanket to keep it elevated. It was obvious Aramis was injured, the men appeared to be discussing what they should do. The second man, who appeared to be the leader, made a suggestion which made the first man smirk and nod enthusiastically. He crept up to Aramis, d'Artagnan tensed, causing the man holding him to pull him back slightly.

The man approaching Aramis leaned over and grabbed his boots before retreating. D'Artagnan relaxed slightly, he was aware of Athos and Porthos doing the same, they had clearly been of the same thought; that the man was going to harm their sleeping friend.

The leader of the men indicated that they should go. D'Artagnan found himself pushed forward and away from the camp, he was aware of Porthos behind him and Athos following on as well.

They had been successfully captured and removed from their camp in the space of five minutes. These men were efficient. D'Artagnan wondered what they had in store for them.

MMMM

Athos was pushed to his knees besides Porthos, d'Artagnan on his other side. They had been walking for about thirty minutes. As they had left their own camp they had each been blindfolded making the walk more treacherous and disorientating. The men had not spoken to them only shoving them forward each time one of them slowed down. Now that they had arrived at their destination the blindfolds had been removed.

The leader of the group stepped in front of them. He stood for a few minutes contemplating his captives. The man was in his forties, he was a little shorter than Athos but he looked fit and capable of winning a fight. He was burly, a look of constant readiness about him.

'You will make fine sport. You were blindfolded for a reason my friends,' he said, 'I didn't want you to be able to find your way back too easily.'

Athos recognised the men from the camp that he, d'Artagnan and Aramis had found the previous day. He did not understand how they could have crossed the river so quickly. He wondered if they had copied their own method and built some sort of makeshift bridge, it was the only answer.

The man was speaking again, 'after all, now that you have found us, I want us to have a better chance of winning, so I have had to handicap your chances. Normally the game is given a fair chance, but you are musketeers and you were looking for me and my men, so you will have to work harder for your freedom.'

Porthos was trying to speak through his gag but only earnt a smack to the side of the head for his troubles.

'Quiet,' said the man who had hit Porthos.

'As I was saying,' the leader continued, 'you will have worked out by now I intend to hunt you. Usually I would just let you go, give you a head start and then release my dogs to track you down and kill you.'

Athos had worked that much out for himself. He wondered what would be different for them.

'But when I saw your injured man in the camp, another idea occurred to me,' he paused and gestured to the man who had taken Aramis' boots, 'your friend back at the camp will be the bait the dogs will be looking for. You will have to reach him before the dogs do. How you then get away from my hounds I really cannot guess.'

Porthos was complaining again, this time he was pushed to the ground and the man holding him pinned him there as the leader approached him and crouched down saying, 'I can see you disapprove of my plan, which is a shame, because I think it is a good plan…if you disrupt me again I will change my plan by eliminating one of your friends from the party. Do you understand?'

Porthos nodded and was pulled back to his knees, he glanced over to Athos and d'Artagnan offering a silent apology for his actions.

'Now, where was I…oh yes…you can have a fifteen minutes head start. Use it wisely…my dogs are hungry…I'll even give you a couple of minutes to work out your own plan.'

The man turned his back on them, he walked over to the four salivating hounds that were being allowed to sniff Aramis' boots. The dogs were fierce strong looking beasts, who were giving their handlers a hard time. Each dog was held by one man and all were straining to move, pulling at their leads.

The three musketeers were hauled to their feet, the gags were removed and the men stepped back a couple of paces to give them some privacy to talk.

Athos took his natural place as their leader and spoke first, 'we have to run, we cannot take them on. There are too many of them and we would not be able to deal with the dogs.'

'I agree,' said Porthos as d'Artagnan nodded his own ascent.

'We need to head South,' the other two looked at d'Artagnan, who sighed and looked up, 'the stars and the position of the moon.'

Athos and Porthos both realised what d'Artagnan meant at the same time.

'Well done,' said Porthos, clearly impressed with their young friend's initiative. Athos glanced at Porthos who looked a little contrite, whilst he had been making a nuisance of himself d'Artagnan had been taking in their surroundings and had worked out which way they needed to go.

'Once we are allowed to go we should stay together until we are out of their sight then split up and run a couple of hundred meters apart,' the others looked at Athos puzzled, 'the chances are that Aramis is awake and wondering what happened to us, he may have moved from the camp…probably not far given his injury but he may have moved. And we will stand a better chance of finding him if we split up.'

'We will need to get back to the river to throw the dogs off the scent…' d'Artagnan paused thinking, 'that abandoned farm house, we can meet there.'

The others agreed. The men advanced on them again and roughly turned them round cutting the ropes that were binding their wrists.

'Good luck gentlemen…although it is a bit pointless, because I will win.'

They were released and did not waste any time, running for the tree line. Once out of sight of the camp Athos kept moving straight ahead whilst Porthos moved to his left and d'Artagnan to his right.

Athos only hoped their hurried plan would work.

MMMM

Aramis quickly realised it was pointless trying to find his friends. He had staggered and stumbled about two hundred meters from the camp following their trail. He was now in so much pain he knew that in another few paces he would probably pass out again. He was breathing hard and was cold. The sweat from his exertions cooling and making him shiver. He knew he should try to get warm. Perhaps he should have stayed at the camp and restarted the fire. But it had started raining a while ago. He wondered if his day could get any worse.

He was sure the last time he had fallen he had passed out, although for how long he did not know. His feet and ankles were covered in scratches and bruises, the lack of boots was really making his torturous day worse.

A noise to his left made him look up. He was shocked to see Porthos crashing through the undergrowth. After the initial shock, he smiled and was about to speak as Porthos reached him. Porthos did not say anything, he had a determined look, he grabbed Aramis left arm, pulling it over his shoulder at the same time he snaked his right arm around his waist. Aramis found himself being pulled along at a pace which was really not conducive with his injury. He yelped in pain and confusion.

But Porthos ignored him and half dragged, half carried him onwards through the woods. Aramis tried to complain, but could not get the words out, he was crying out in pain with each gasped breath. He could not understand why his friend was treating him like this when he knew that he was injured. The only explanation was that Porthos was doing this because he had to, they were in danger and this rough treatment was required to get them to safety. Aramis tried to help as much as he could but each step on his left leg was agony.

They broke away from the wood and into the open, heading towards the river. Porthos guided them straight towards the river. They entered the water and turned heading along the shallow edge. The water only reached their knees. But it was cold, and Aramis did not have boots on, this only added to the pain he was in. He could barely breathe now.

Then, as if fate had decided Aramis was not suffering enough he stumbled on a rock and fell from Porthos' grasp, full into the water. Soaked through.

Porthos wasted no time hauling him up and dragging him on along the river. Aramis could feel himself fading, the edges of his vision were greying. He tried to focus but it was becoming impossible.

He knew it would not be long before he passed out.

MMMM


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Athos reached their camp, Aramis was nowhere to be seen. He glanced around and realised that there was an obvious trail leading out of the camp. He surmised that Aramis would have followed it. Going that way Aramis would most likely be met by Porthos.

A sound to his right caused him to start and turn quickly, d'Artagnan appeared panting hard form his run, he looked around.

'No sign?'

'No, but I think he would have followed our trail out,' replied Athos pointing behind him.

'Porthos will find him,' said d'Artagnan confidently.

They both paused as the sound of the dogs barking in the distance travelled through the wood.

'I know they are supposed to be following Aramis scent but it's started raining so that isn't going to work for long,' said d'Artagnan, 'perhaps we could give them something else to follow…give Porthos a chance to find Aramis?'

Athos gave a rare smile and nodded, he started running in the opposite direction with d'Artagnan close on his heels. With luck, their scent would prove more interesting, being fresher, than their injured comrades.

MMMM

Porthos dragged the barely conscious musketeer from the river and towards the farm house. He kicked open the door and pulled Aramis inside. He lay him down as gently as he could, his friend was pale, shivering and looked very confused.

'I'm sorry, but the dogs were after you. I had to get you away and into the river to throw them off your scent,' he said by way of explanation, although he was not sure if the marksman was really taking in anything that he said.

He left Aramis where he lay and searched about the two rooms of the building. There was a hearth but he could not risk starting a fire, the smoke would surely draw their pursuers to them. But he also needed to get Aramis warm, and quickly. There was a rickety bed in the back room that did not look like it would support anyone's weight, but it did have a couple of moth eaten blankets on it. He grabbed them and went back to the main room.

Aramis was trying to sit up, but not really succeeding. Porthos pushed him into a sitting position and started to undo his soaked doublet batting away Aramis cold hands when he tried to help.

'Let me do it,' he said, not unkindly.

'Others?'

'They'll join us, we split up. They know to come here.'

Porthos was peeling off Aramis shirt now, the marksman was shivering so much his teeth were chattering.

'Sorry, but the trousers are coming off as well, I need to get you warm,' said Porthos apologetically as he started undoing his friend's breeches. Aramis did his best to wriggle out of the damp clothes. Porthos grabbed one of the blankets and wrapped it round the now naked man.

He managed to get Aramis huddled in a corner of the room with one blanket wrapped around his shoulders and upper body the other over his legs tucking around as best he could. He spread Aramis clothes around the room in the hope that they would dry. The rain had stopped, but the outside temperature was cool.

Finally, he grabbed Aramis' weapons and sat on the floor next to his friend hoping that his own proximity would help to warm his friend. Under Aramis' watchful, sleepy gaze, he began drying the weapons with his own shirt. If they needed to defend themselves they would need the weapons in working order.

Porthos worked in silence, reassured as long as his friend was shivering. But alert in case he stopped.

MMMM

D'Artagnan was fit and used to being active, but this was a bit different. He was running for his life, for his friends lives. He could hear Athos behind him, and the dogs further back.

'Far enough, I think,' called Athos as he changed direction towards the river on their left.

D'Artagnan quickly followed suit, they headed for the river splashing into the shallow edges. They knew they would have to travel some way along it to reach the abandoned farm house that they hoped Porthos and Aramis would already have reached.

There was no way they could be quiet as they made their way along the river, it could not be helped. They hoped the dogs barking would be louder than any noise they made.

As they rounded a bend in the river a cottage came into view on the other side of the river. A man and a boy were stood on the bank of the river watching them.

Athos stopped running abruptly, d'Artagnan nearly ran in to him. He leaned over panting as Athos started calling across the river to the two on the other side.

'We need help, please,' he said. D'Artagnan was surprised at the tone Athos took.

'I gathered that,' said the man, 'the men with dogs are they chasing you? You must keep moving to outrun them, there is no way across the river for miles.'

'We think we have thrown them off our scent…do you have a horse?'

'Yes,' replied the man.

'Can you get to Paris, the musketeer garrison and tell our Captain where we are?' asked Athos before added, 'we will pay you for your time.'

The man smiled and replied, 'no need, I'll send Luc, he is a better rider than me. If your musketeers can rid us of those men and their abominable dogs I would happily pay you.'

'You, sir, are a fine citizen,' said Athos, he turned to the boy, 'Luc? Tell them Athos sent you. Tell them we will be in the abandoned farmhouse, about a mile from here.'

Luc nodded and looked to his father who smiled and nodded for him to go, the boy ran off towards the house.

As the two were about to move on the man called across, 'are you looking for two more soldiers?' both Athos and d'Artagnan nodded as the man continued, 'I saw them go passed a while ago, one of them looked in pretty bad shape.'

'Thank you, monsieur, we must get to our friends, but we are grateful for the assistance.'

The man nodded as Athos and d'Artagnan resumed their run along the river.

MMMM

The weapons were lying clean and dry by Porthos side. But they were not the main concern of the big musketeer, whose attention was solely on his very still friend. Aramis had stopped shivering and had slipped into unconsciousness a little while ago. Porthos had pulled Aramis closer to him, trying to share as much of his own body warmth as he could, although he was feeling quite cold himself.

Voices outside drew his attention to the door, he grabbed one of Aramis' guns. It was loaded and ready, he aimed it at the door. He was in no position to offer them much of a defence but he would do his best.

'It's us,' Porthos sighed with relief as he heard d'Artagnan call from outside as the door swung open.

Athos entered and looked around spotting his friends huddled in the corner. He looked concerned at the sight.

Porthos said simply, 'he's stopped shivering, I couldn't start a fire…but we need to warm him up.'

'Let's risk a fire now,' said d'Artagnan crossing to the hearth.

'We led the dogs away from here and doubled back along the river. Help is on the way, we have a message on its way to Treville,' Athos told Porthos as he pulled his jacket off and laid it over Aramis.

MMMM

Treville had assembled a group of musketeers and briefed them as they saddled their horses. They were leaving immediately. The young boy who had arrived minutes before was watching in awe as the well-trained soldiers did not hesitate in their preparations.

'You can use one of our horses to return,' said Treville to Luc, 'yours will need to rest. Don't worry we will make sure she is returned to you.'

They were on the road within fifteen minutes. Treville knew that for his men to have sent a civilian to get them help the situation must have been serious.

The spot where the musketeers had been making their investigation was only a few hours ride from the garrison. Treville hoped to be there before nightfall. They rode hard, Treville was impressed with the young boys riding and resilience. He did not complain and seemed determined in his task to help the musketeers.

When they reached the nearest bridge to the place that Luc had described they parted ways. Treville again telling the boy that he would see to it that the musketeer horse would be collected and his own one returned to him. Luc rode with them on the opposite bank until he reached his home and indicated that the soldiers should carry on following the river.

MMMM

The fire was lit and gradually warming the room. D'Artagnan helped Athos to move Aramis closer to the fire. Porthos had become stiff from sitting in an awkward position for so long. He managed to get up and shuffle over to the fire. He insisted on staying beside Aramis. Athos did not try to stop him.

Aramis' clothes soon dried and Porthos redressed his friend in the hope that proper clothes would help warm him quicker. Aramis was showing signs of improvement, for which they were all thankful, but he remained unconscious.

D'Artagnan took the guns and sat by the window at the front of the farmhouse, keeping a watchful eye on the river. Every so often he glanced around and watched as Athos kept a silent vigil over Aramis and Porthos.

The sound of dogs barking caused the three conscious musketeers to look towards the window. Athos rushed over to peer out over d'Artagnan. Porthos disentangled himself from Aramis and after lying his friend carefully back on the floor he joined them.

'They've found us,' said d'Artagnan trying to work out which direction the dogs would be coming from.

'What do we do? We can't run again.'

'Can we defend this place?'

'Possibly, but with only the two guns it will be difficult. Can we barricade the doors and windows?'

A flurry of activity followed. Athos tipped the rickety bed over in the back room and used it to block up the doorway. One room would be easier to defend than two. D'Artagnan piled up what little other furniture there was against the main door and closed and barred the shutters on the two small windows. Gaps in the shutters meant they could still see a little of what was going on in front of the house.

Porthos dragged Aramis back to the corner of the room and made him as comfortable as he could, covering him in the threadbare blankets. Porthos and d'Artagnan had also shed their jackets to help provide further warmth to their friend.

They readied themselves, d'Artagnan with one gun at one window, Athos mirroring him at the other. Porthos was ready with Aramis' sword as a last defence. They knew they stood little chance, but they were going to go down fighting.

'I told you I would win,' shouted a familiar voice, the leader of the hunters was calling from the front of the house, but neither Athos or d'Artagnan could see him.

D'Artagnan let out a shocked breath causing the others to look over at him, 'gunpowder…I think they mean to blow us up!'

MMMM

The sight that greeted Treville, was not what he had expected. The abandoned house where he knew his men to be was being besieged by a group of men. Normally Treville would simply have taken them out. But the group were well equipped, with dogs and guns. And they had laid a trail of gunpower from the corner of the small house to a low wall a safe distance away. A man was crouched down by the wall, protected on two sides.

It was quite clear that the gang of men intended to kill his trapped musketeers by blowing up the building.

'Stop what you are doing!' called Treville, causing the men to turn in his direction.

They were clearly shocked to find twenty armed soldiers facing them, but the men did not move. They were disciplined.

'We find ourselves in an interesting situation,' came a voice over to Trevilles left. A man peeked out from behind a sturdy tree.

'Surrender now, you have nowhere to go.'

'Oh, I think I have the bargaining chip here. Your men are in that building and I have the means to kill them. You will let us go and I won't blow them up,' he paused before saying with an obvious smirk, 'quite a simple choice really, your men or me and mine.'

MMMM

'Treville is there, it's a stand-off,' said d'Artagnan who had a better view from his window.

'Can you see where the gunpower leads to?' asked Porthos trying to see over d'Artagnan's head.

'It finishes by the wall over there,' he indicated to his left, 'there is man crouched down…I wonder if we could shoot him from here?'

D'Artagnan aimed the gun but did not fire, he frowned, 'I'm not sure I could make the shot, and if I miss, the chance will be gone…do you think you could?'

'You're a better shot than me,' replied Porthos.

There were a few seconds of silence.

'Shall I have a go?'

The three turned at the same time to look over at Aramis. The musketeer had managed to push himself up to a sitting position and, although he was still very pale, his eyes were focused and alert.

'If anyone can it will be you, even injured I think you will be our best hope,' said Athos as he and Porthos crossed the room.

They helped him up, he wavered slightly when he was upright. They waited for him to regain his balance then helped him to hop over to the window. D'Artagnan stepped aside handing Aramis the gun as he did so.

'Over to the left, the man is crouched down, but you can just see his back, he's not completely hidden.'

'I see him…'

Aramis spent a few seconds observing the crouching man. He took a breath and levelled the gun. The others fell silent not wanting to distract him. The shot would be difficult enough for the injured man as it was. He paused, waiting for the crouching man to lean back slightly. Aramis had noticed that the man would lean forwards and backwards every few seconds, he was swaying slightly as he crouched down, probably uncomfortable. The next time the man came further into view Aramis fired.

MMMM

The shot took Treville by surprise. He had been looking over toward the leader of the men and trying to work out how he was going to defuse the situation. He needed to neutralise the threat of the gunpowder. As long as there was a man ready to light the fuse his men were in danger. Letting the gang escape was not an option he wanted to take.

The shot, must have come from the house and not from one of his own men. The crouching man by the fuse was too well hidden for any of his men to have a chance of hitting him. The man gave a short scream before falling backwards away from the fuse.

An instant later Treville had given an order to advance and the musketeers who were at the ready did as they were instructed. The twenty musketeers rushed forward and were quickly engaged in fighting the gang. The baying hounds had been released and Treville saw them take down at least one of his men before they were shot and killed. The man who had been taken down was moving, but Treville did not know how badly he was injured.

The leader of the group had rushed forward towards the gunpower. Treville realised he intended to shoot at it to cause it to explode. Treville drew his own gun and shot the man instead, he fell to the ground his gun falling by his side. The man was weakly trying to reach the gun as Treville made his way over to him. He picked up the gun as the man looked up at him, the light slowly fading from his dying eyes.

'You will not be terrorising any more people,' said Treville as the man blinked one final time before becoming still.

The musketeers had either captured or killed all the men. They were busy tending to their own wounded, of which there were few and dealing with the gang. Treville was pleased to see the man who had been attacked by the dogs was sat up and his injuries were being cleaned and bound.

The Captain looked toward the house as the door was opened. D'Artagnan and Athos emerged. Treville walked over to them and greeted them warmly.

'That was an impressive shot, was that Aramis' doing?'

'Yes,' replied Athos as he took in the scene around him. The captured men were being rounded up and restrained. The bodies of the dead were being searched and prepared for transportation.

'Where is he?' asked Treville, looking passed Athos towards the house.

'He passed out after firing the shot…he was injured yesterday, and Porthos managed to throw him in the river earlier,' said d'Artagnan, 'he'll be fine.'

'Good,' said Treville a little confused at the explanation, but sure he would have all the details at some point.

MMMM

It had been too late to travel back to Paris that night. They had camped around the abandoned house. The building being used as a makeshift infirmary for the few injured men.

Aramis had regained consciousness a couple of hours earlier and was sat in front of the fire leaning against a saddle, wrapped up in a couple of new blankets, the threadbare ones having been abandoned. He had been given some broth, Porthos had supervised him to make sure he drank it all.

Treville watched as Porthos fussed around his friend. He was always amused at the way his four best musketeers, burly men generally, could become quite motherly when it was needed.

Athos and d'Artagnan had joined them in front of the fire.

'I'm looking forward to a big meal when we get back, all that running has made me famished,' said d'Artagnan.

'A trip to the tavern would not be unwelcome,' suggested Athos.

'As I made such a fantastic shot and saved the day I am expecting to have my meal bought for me,' said Aramis, managing a cheeky grin.

'You saved the day?' said Porthos turning to his friend with a look of mock shock, 'if you hadn't tripped over we wouldn't have been in this mess in the first place.'

Aramis looked taken aback, for a second, before smiling at Porthos and giving him a friendly shove.

'Porthos has a point, Aramis,' laughed d'Artagnan, 'if anything, you should be buying us dinner!'

'Suddenly I don't feel well,' replied Aramis dramatically.

Porthos laughed and grabbed his friend round the shoulders in a brief, friendly embrace, 'don't worry,' he said, 'we won't eat much.'

The End.


End file.
